


Just One More Yesterday

by Macx



Series: Synergy [5]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years after he left Anchorage and the Shatterdome behind, Raleigh returns on a personal matter. There are Yancy's things, still stored at the Shatterdome. There is his old home and everything inside he inherited from his parents. And there is everything else. Especially the memories in his head. His own, those of Yancy, those from Yancy.<br/>He isn't alone, though.<br/>Chuck is along for the ride. You couldn't get him to stay away anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Information on Raleigh’s parents were taken from various sources, one of them the PacRim Wiki. I’m ignoring his sister, though. :)
> 
> Also: I was completely convinced that Bruce and Trevin Gage weren’t killed in action. For this ‘verse I needed them alive, so there you have it: they survived :P

He hadn’t been here in over six years. Bordering on seven.

The first four months of that time he had spent in intensive care, hospitals, recovery and rehab centers. The next five he had been… running. Running from this place, from the war, from the memories.

Everything had stayed with him, no matter how far and how fast he had gone.

Especially the memories.

They would always be there, locked in a drawer, compartmentalized by now, but they couldn’t be erased. There were the good and the bad, and then there was that one moment seared into his mind and into his skin.

Could have been me. It wasn’t. It left me alive. It took only Yancy. It crippled me and with me, Gipsy.

The place had changed and still stayed so very much the same.

He knew every corner, every nook, every cranny.

He could walk the hallways in his sleep; had probably done that too often in the past.

He knew where he had lived; could find his way there with his eyes closed after getting spun around a dozen times, probably with an unhealthy amount of alcohol in his blood on top of that.

And that was where he stood.

Raleigh Becket let his eyes sweep over the small room, with its bunk beds, the tiny cubicle someone had dared dub a bathroom, and the barren, metal walls, and something inside of him stuttered and nearly broke.

There was nothing left of those men who had once been the occupants of these quarters. There wasn’t a single scrap of paper on the walls or on the floor. The mattresses had been removed, the room stripped of everything but the bare metal skeleton of the bunk beds and the mirror bolted to the wall.

The rest of the furniture had been removed. Chairs, desk, cabinets, everything.

Nothing left.

Just memories.

He had been one of those men. He wasn’t that man anymore. He wasn’t the carefree daredevil who had looked forward to a fight. Who had egged his brother on to get going, to kick Kaiju ass.

The carefree part had grown into a man who had struggled with his fate, who had needed years to come to terms with what had happened. No psychologist could have helped him, which had been one reason for Raleigh to make a run for it, to resign and disappear. No one knew what had happened to him, how much of him had been torn to pieces and how many of those pieces weren’t his at all. Yancy was there, an echo, a shadow, a ghost.

He would always be there.

Raleigh closed his eyes and turned, walking back out into the hallway. The pain wasn’t so bad anymore. He had learned not to pick at the wounds, to let them heal and scar, to accept.

It was one reason why he had set foot into this place again. He wouldn’t have been able to do so a year or two ago.

He wandered almost aimlessly through the empty, abandoned Shatterdome outside Anchorage.

Since the shut-down, no one had really come here. A few workers to break down machines and carry out whatever was still salvageable. Data files had been transferred, the rooms had been locked, and now it was an empty, cavernous... thing. A metal hulk sitting at the Alaskan coastline.

It was eerie.

There had been talk about selling the structure to a private buyer, but that hadn’t happened and now it wouldn’t. The Icebox, as it had been lovingly called by everyone stationed there, was a good memory for him. It had been his life for so long. He had been to the Jaeger Academy and then remained stationed here.

Right now, there weren’t a lot of people around, aside from him. There were no voices, no hum of machinery aside from the distant generators keeping essential functions running, and only security personnel had remained after everything had been locked.

And they were currently busy sorting through storage.

Anchorage would get new life soon, but until then the old had to be cleaned out. For the past year there had been no notable activity and a lot had been simply dumped in this empty space.

Like the belongings of those MIA, KIA or otherwise no longer physically there to collect what was theirs.

Raleigh stopped inside the cavernous Jaeger bay. His eyes were drawn to the empty slot that had been Gipsy Danger’s service bay. A smile crossed his lips, wistful, almost sad, but with a lot of fond memories attached.

He had spent good years here. Training, fighting, defending the Alaskan coastline, and the world, against the Kaijus.

Three years.

Three kills.

He and Yancy.

The painful twist at the thought of his brother was there, but it was no longer so sharp and almost devastating. Six years were a long time to come to terms with the loss and he knew a counsellor would tell him to step past the pain and embrace the future, not linger in the past, but no one knew what had really happened to Raleigh on the day Yancy had been yanked out of the Drift by Knifehead.

No one had – until Mako Mori had been in the Drift with him.

And later Chuck Hansen.

The tension bled out of him at the thought of the two closest people he had in his life now, who knew him better than anyone. Mako was like a sister to him, knew him so well, accepted him as he was.

She was the first Raleigh had let into his head again, had Drifted with. She had been and still was special.

Chuck… Chuck wasn’t a brother; they were so much more and so much closer. Lovers, partners, co-pilots… He was the second one to get into his head, and stay there.

The whispers only he heard, the part of Yancy that had been left behind after the Pons had been torn apart, increased. He could hear Yancy sometimes, as if he was just behind him, on the right side, laughing softly, teasing him, calling him an idiot over something or other. He knew it wasn’t real, that it was a sign of his brain damage.

Raleigh didn’t care. It was all he had left; it was Yancy.

And maybe it was an unhealthy attachment, but at least he wasn’t seeing things or talking to the imaginary brother.

It was a Ghost. Pilots had them. And he had had it for close to seven years.

When he had worked on The Wall it had been almost reassuring, a part of the past he had lost, the part where he had died, too. Raleigh had clung to the murmurs, the faint images behind closed eyes, the sensation of Yancy still with him, connected to him through the neural handshake. It had kept him going, had kept him alive.

Raleigh crossed the Jaeger bay to where several boxes had been shoved against the wall. They had been labeled ‘Becket, R., Gipsy Danger, R-RBEC_122.21-B’ and ‘Becket, Y., Gipsy Danger, R-YBEC_122.20-B’.

It was all he and Yancy had left behind. Raleigh hadn’t thought about his belongings, aside from what he had stuffed into the single bag he had packed, ever since leaving. He had lived with nothing but the bare essentials for five years. Everything else had been put in storage; he had signed for it and never looked back, never wanted to take a closer look.

He moved the boxes, one for him, two with Yancy’s things, and opened his own.

There was not much to it. Some old books, pictures he hadn’t taken down from the wall, some mementos from leaves, and his jacket.

Something inside him twisted sharply as he touched the worn leather, as his fingers ran over the writing on the back. Gipsy Danger. And her decals. His name on the front, together with his Kaiju kills.

His hands clenched into the fabric and he bit his lower lips.

Four.

They had killed four of the monsters together. They had been almost carefree, treating it like an adventure, running on adrenaline alone.

Raleigh felt a smile steal over his lips at the memory of their first live encounter. Yamarashi. Outside L.A. They had been deployed as back-up, but the trimary Jaeger hadn’t been able to stand against 2500 tons of killing machine. In the end Gipsy Danger had taken down the category three by beheading it with a cargo crane wire.

Raleigh still remembered the terror he had felt. They hadn’t seen the thing they were fighting as more than a digital representation inside the Conn-Pod. There were no live feed cameras. He knew what Kaijus looked like, even if they were all different in appearance, but it wasn’t the same. TV images and dead bodies didn’t inspire such terror as the live image you were grappling with would.

Yes, he had been terrified.

And he had been determined to kill the bastard, to show it that humanity would not go down without a fight.

It had been a close call for them both. Covered in Kaiju Blue, the corrosive blood of the gigantic creatures, they had barely made it back in time to the Los Angeles Shatterdome to be hosed down. The Conn-Pod had nearly been compromised.

That night, high on adrenaline, Yancy and he had celebrated with everyone else until they had crashed completely from too much alcohol.

Oh yeah, he still remembered that hangover from Hell.

And Yancy puking his guts out.

Raleigh’s smile grew as he caressed the worn logo.

Their first kill.

And they had been heroes.

Yancy had grown more mature after that, had acted like the big brother, but to Raleigh it had been almost like a video game again. They had been damn good, had been the actual best at the time. He knew what his psych profile said and he had laughed about it back then.

_‘Raleigh Becket’s improvisational and intuitive approach to combat makes him a wild card to the Kaiju and his co-pilot alike, as his unpredictable nature can be either a liability or a decisive advantage.’_

Yes, he had been a wild card back then. He had been one of the most skilled pilots and his high Drift compatibility had made him so good.

Until Knifehead.

To the day Raleigh had a problem with looking at a poster or action figure or open a magazine and see the Kaijus that had come through the Breach when Knifehead was there.

His eyes strayed to Yancy’s two boxes and he dreaded opening them.

But he had to. It was all he had left, he had inherited, and he would keep it. All of it, no matter what junk his older brother had collected over time.

So he did.

 

*

 

It was how Chuck found him an hour later: sitting on the floor, three empty boxes around him, their contents spilled out on the floor. Papers, books, pens, photos, a curious collection of keys and buttons, but also some clothes, a pair of very worn combat boots, and assorted knick-knacks. There was even a stack of drawings, clearly made by kids. All of them showed a Jaeger that, with a lot of imagination, could be Gipsy Danger, and two supposedly human figures. Her pilots. The heroes of the hour.

Chuck had watched his partner-lover-boyfriend-co-pilot-allthatisnotwhatheisanyway for a while now. He wasn’t blind to the changes to Raleigh’s usually so easy-going, balanced nature just before they had left for Anchorage. Raleigh had suddenly been rather close-mouthed, almost moody, distant, and the lines appearing in his face spoke of the stress he was under.

Emotional stress and distress.

Going back to where he had never wanted to return to.

They had argued about it several times. Chuck had told him to let someone else sort through the stuff, send him whatever they found, or hire someone to clear out what needed to be cleared out.

The argument had been loud, intense, and finally Raleigh had stormed off in a cloud of anger and pain.

Chuck had waited almost half a day, to give him time to calm down, to give himself time to clear his head, then had sought out the blond.

“I have to do this,” Raleigh had told him.

“Then we do it,” had been Chuck’s reply.

And that was it.

Now he looked at a man known to be one of the best Rangers, tough, unbreakable, resilient and a survivor, and all Chuck saw was the pain of memories, the shadows of the black hole inside his mind where Yancy had been at the time of his death.

_Fuck_ , he thought. This was bad. And it might get worse.

Raleigh looked up when he approached, pale, lines in his face that hadn’t been there in years, and Chuck felt the tension like it was a physical thing between them. Those blue eyes expressed remembered happiness and pain, and something he knew was what had remained from Yancy Becket.

“Family pictures?” he asked, voice a little rougher than usual, nodding at what Raleigh was holding.

“Kinda.”

Chuck didn’t move, waiting. When Raleigh didn’t say anything he moved slowly closer, then settled next to his co-pilot and partner.

“Looks like… landscapes,” he tried hesitantly.

Mountains, lakes, roads, some odd animal pictures. Birds and bears and a moose, if he was any judge of it. Then there were some old, dilapidated buildings, maybe an outdoor museum. All very normal. And they looked at least a decade old.

Raleigh chuckled. “Yeah. Good eye, Ranger.”

He shot him a glare. Raleigh’s smile was lighter, though hardly his normally so easy grin.

“Most are from a road trip. We had a week of leave and went camping.”

Chuck snorted. “Of course you did.”

“Dad had a motorhome and after he… left we kept it.” Raleigh looked at the picture, thumb rubbing over the matte finish.

Chuck knew enough about Raleigh’s family to add the rest. His mother was dead; lung cancer. She had passed away before the Becket boys had joined the PPDC. Their father had up and left his family after his wife had died. Raleigh hadn’t heard anything of him until the day someone had called and told him that Richard Becket had died in some backwater town after a car accident.

“It was fun,” Raleigh went on softly. “Yancy never caught that big fish he promised he would. He nearly ran over a moose, though.”

Chuck blinked. “Really?”

“Really.” Raleigh shuffled through the photos. “Not to mention the bear that crawled under our motorhome while we stayed in a provincial park. Sat there for hours waiting for the big guy to leave.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“Nope. Happens sometimes. You don’t get out, just wait for him to get bored. And not fall asleep because he loves his new den so much.”

Raleigh put the photos back into an envelope and put them into a small box. Chuck looked around the mess of personal items and memorabilia, coupled with a few PPDC documents, books that had probably come out of a used book store and were about mechanics, and some things that looked like souvenirs. A leather bracelet. A jade figurine. Oddly shaped rocks. A pencil with a hotel chain logo on it. A pair of hand-knit gloves. A baseball cap with ‘Alaska’ written on it.

Chuck nearly laughed at that.

And there were the pilot jackets. Raleigh’s and Yancy’s.

Chuck ran his fingers over the print on the worn leather. He still had his own, from Striker, with all the thirteen Kaiju heads painted on the leather to show off their kills. And Raleigh’s had his own four.

The fifth, Knifehead, was missing.

Not to mention the kills Gipsy Danger had made throughout Operation Pitfall. Two more there. Not to mention the destruction wreaked in the Anteverse.

Sometimes Chuck wondered how much had been destroyed over there, how many more Kaijus killed. Not because he wanted to paint them on his jacket; because he wanted to know if they could recover from this. It was something Dr. Gottlieb was trying to determine, too. Would the Precursors be back? Had they won the war or just a fight?

Raleigh’s lips twisted into a wry smile and Chuck drew himself out of his thoughts. “Didn’t stay around to get another kill to my account. And Gipsy 2.0… I’m not sure I’ll ever wear the jacket again. It’s the past.”

Yes, he knew that. He had seen it in the Drifts they had shared already. Raleigh had opened himself, had shown Chuck exactly what he was getting into on a personal level, and Chuck had been struck speechless, had been horrified, frightened and awed by it all. He knew Raleigh had left the hospital Against Medical Advice.

And then he had disappeared into anonymity.

To build The Wall.

Raleigh folded the jacket, his jacket, and put it with the box with his name on it.

“You gonna take it all back?”

It got him a shrug.

Chuck climbed to his feet and held out a hand. Raleigh took it and hoisted himself up. He appeared tired, worn. Looking into your past did that to a man, even one as strong and resilient as Raleigh Becket.

He drew his partner close, lips meeting in an almost chaste kiss. Raleigh closed his eyes, arms wrapped around Chuck’s waist, just holding on. Like Chuck was his lifeline.

Maybe he was.

“Let’s get this to the helicopter.”

The blond nodded and they carried the three boxes to the Sikorsky. Raleigh turned and looked at the Shatterdome.

“It’ll be operational in a few more weeks,” Chuck remarked.

“Yeah. Basic functions. Surveillance and training.”

Chuck nodded. He kept up to date on such matters. Not just because his father was the Marshall of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Chuck was always interested in everything concerning Jaegers and the reopening of the Shatterdomes around the Pacific Rim.

“Chrome Brutus is already on her way to L.A. for repairs and updates. She will probably be transferred in six months. Last I saw she’s looking really good.”

Herc had told him a few things about the PPDC plans and Chuck had listened without interruption. Then he had read the files his dad had pushed his way. It had taken him almost a week to go through it all and he had been moderately impressed.

“They’re considering Trevin Gage as a Marshall for Anchorage,” Herc had told him back then. “And resurrecting Romeo Blue. She would be stationed in Anchorage.”

Huh. He knew Trevin, and his twin brother Bruce, and the man was good Marshall material.

Brawler Yukon was next in line to be moved to Anchorage. She was in a moderately good condition, but her reconfiguration would need more time. Romeo and Chrome had pilot teams already assigned to them. With Brawler Anchorage would have its three designated Jaegers.

“If that’s your not so subtle way of asking if I want to transfer, the answer is no,” Raleigh said with a fine smile, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Chuck tried not to look relieved, but he was probably very bad at hiding it. Raleigh smirked and leaned closer.

“Anchorage is my past. If you want to remain in Hong Kong, I’ll stay there, too. If you like Sydney, I won’t stay behind.”

“Not going to Sydney.”

“Maybe Herc will.”

He shook his head with a fine smile. “Nope. That’s our past. I like Hong Kong. So does dad.”

Raleigh kissed him, a gentle brush of lips against lips, then drew back. “And you call me a sap?”

“I’m calling you a lot of things, has-been,” Chuck grumbled. He elbowed him. “Let’s go before you really do get sappy.”

“What about Panama City?” Raleigh laughed.

“What about it?”

“Warm climate?”

“I don’t give a flying shit about the climate, Raleigh, okay? I like Hong Kong. I’m staying in Hong Kong.”

“They’re looking for experienced pilots.”

“Not going.”

“Substantial raise included.”

He glared at the blond. “What about ‘not leaving Hong Kong’ don’t you understand?”

Raleigh’s smile softened. “I do understand.”

“Then shut up about transferring anywhere else.”

The only reason why he would leave would be his father going to another Shatterdome, but that wasn’t even a thought he had entertained so far.

Raleigh pulled him into a kiss that involved enough tongue that Chuck was losing a few brain cells.

“Shutting up,” Raleigh murmured.

“Good.”

The rest was drowned in another kiss.

Brain cells were highly overrated anyway.

 

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

The sky was nearly a perfect blue. Clear, barely any clouds – just a hint of white painted across the azure – and the sun was shining brightly. A fresh breeze came in across the ocean. Tiny flowers were blooming everywhere, a rage of colors among the gray stones. The sea was calm, almost peaceful, and near the horizon a fishing boat was silhouetted against the sky.

The forecast had been adamant about a change in the weather this evening and Raleigh had told Chuck that yes, he should better believe it. The weather changes could be abrupt this time of the year.

The drive from the Shatterdome to Anchorage was spent almost silently. The landscape went by unnoticed. The road needed repairs and some potholes were bone-jarring. It snaked along the rugged coastline with breathtaking views of the ocean and the rough rocks jutting out of the water.

After the Shatterdome had been abandoned, the road had suffered from neglect and the elements. Winter and spring thaw had truly done a number on the surface and Chuck nearly hit his head against the roof of the car more than once.

Normally they would have taken the next flight back home, but Raleigh had one more thing to do and Chuck had been adamant about coming along, even if it didn’t really concern him; even if it was very private, very personal. Raleigh hadn’t said a word about Chuck not being invited.

Actually, he had looked relieved when his partner had offered.

Raleigh had grown up in Anchorage. He and Yancy and their parents. Everyone but Raleigh was dead.

And the family home was Raleigh’s.

It was where the car stopped and where Raleigh stood staring at the spacious looking building that had Chuck gape for a moment. He didn’t know what he had expected. Maybe some quaint little home from a hundred years ago. Maybe something more rustic, looking like it had been built using an axe and a lot of logs.

He almost laughed. Stereotypical thinking much, Chuck? he asked himself.

The house was contemporary, maybe thirty to forty years old, built on a hillside. It was at the end of a road coming from Anchorage, so the house was overlooking the city and had a mountain view in one. It had a large, covered front porch. The siding, which looked very well taken care of, was natural wood; no paint. He guessed it had to have at least four bedrooms for a family the size of Becket’s.

The lawn looked like it needed a good mowing, but you couldn’t miss the signs that this had been a landscaped lot before. There was even a pond that had probably been used for swimming, too.

“Welcome to the Becket home,” Raleigh said, voice slightly heavy.

“You’re going to sell this?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah. I’m not going to move back here.”

“You won’t be a pilot all your life.”

It got him a tired smile. “Yeah, but this is… it’s too full,” he only said and walked over to the main entrance.

Chuck hesitated for a moment, then followed. He knew what Raleigh meant and he understood, because he and his dad had sold the house in Melbourne, too. He couldn’t imagine going back, and not seeing his mother everywhere. For Raleigh this house held even more memories than the Melbourne residence had held for Chuck. They had lived in that house for two years when his mom had been killed. Herc had bought it because he had been stationed there; because he wanted to retire from active service; because he wanted to be with his family.

Raleigh had grown up here. He had known this place for all his life.

The door was unlocked and Chuck didn’t even ask. Maybe it was like this here. The next neighbors were about a kilometer down the road and there were a ton of trees everywhere. And what was there to steal in here?

Not much, he decided as he followed Raleigh inside. He stepped right into the great room, past a den, and found that the house had been planned as an open concept. The great room turned into a dining area and into a kitchen without any doors. Looking up, Chuck could see the roof from here. The second floor had a partial gallery.

The house was mostly empty of personal stuff. The furniture looked used but not too old. There were pictures on the walls, but none too personal. It looked like a showroom that needed to be renovated, not a home where the family hadn’t lived for close to six years.

“Someone’s been taking care of things,” Raleigh explained as he closed the door and joined him, without needing to be prompted. “I asked a broker to list it. Seems like a few offers have already been made.”

“Where did they put your stuff?” Chuck asked, walking around the spacious ground floor, inspecting the kitchen.

“Storage.”

He met the blue eyes, silently asking whether or not they would empty that storage locker as well. Raleigh smiled, but he looked exhausted, like just being here was tiring him out.

Maybe it was.

Chuck walked back to him and wordlessly wrapped the blond in an embrace. Chuck Hansen wasn’t known for being an over-emotional person, for readily dealing out hugs and kisses, but it was different with Raleigh. There was something between them, something that had him do this, touch and caress and draw the other man to him. It was Raleigh who brought out the best and the worst in him. It was simply Raleigh.

And Chuck bit back a dark thought that he had become a big softie. Because he was hopelessly lost when it came to the American.

_‘Cause I love the guy_ , he thought with a resigned sigh.

Raleigh drew a shuddering breath and held him tightly, burying his face against the leather jacket Chuck was wearing.

The Australian looked out the patio doors, saw the large lawn and the trees behind the house, the shed not far away, as Raleigh rode out the emotional wave running through him. It was a beautiful setting and a really good looking house. It would probably sell quickly.

“I’ve gotta do the walk-through,” Raleigh said, voice slightly muffled against Chuck’s neck. “For personal stuff that might have been overlooked. Then call the agent. I… we’re not going to the storage depot. Not today.”

Chuck met his eyes as Raleigh raised his head, then kissed him. “Okay. Let’s get it over with.”

Raleigh gave him a thankful smile.

 

*

 

The walk-through was a mixture of interesting and painful. Especially the rooms belonging to Yancy and Raleigh. There were still signs of them growing up, even though the personal stuff had been removed. Chuck wasn’t even aware of holding Raleigh’s hand at first, but he squeezed it gently, relaying his support.

This was hard.

He knew hard and it was frighteningly easy to be this empathic to his partner’s emotional state.

Damn, he was so lost and in love with the other man, he mused to himself. Hopelessly lost and in love.

 

*

 

In the end there was nothing Raleigh wanted to take with him or have put in storage, so he called the broker agent, told him everything was fine, to go ahead with the sales listing as is, and pulled the door shut behind himself.

It had a kind of finality to it that had Chuck swallow back the lump in his throat.

“Ready,” Raleigh only stated and turned, then his eyes widened a fraction.

Chuck looked down the road and found they were being watched by a woman about their age. Well, more Raleigh’s than his own.

“Know her?” he asked.

“Yeah. Dana Braun. Her family lives down the road.”

Which, in this part of the country, could mean ten miles to a hundred.

Raleigh gave the woman now walking closer a tentative smile. “Hey, Dana.”

“Raleigh? It is you! Haven’t seen your face in ages!”

“I was… busy.”

“Saving the world, I know. You were plastered all over the news for months on end after the Breach was closed! Everyone here was so proud!”

Raleigh ducked his head, looking uncomfortable, and Chuck narrowed his eyes a little at the woman.

“You’re his co-pilot, right?” she asked, extending a hand. “Dana Braun. Raleigh and I went to school together.”

Chuck shook the hand politely, but his smile felt tight and forced. “Chuck Hansen.”

“You’ve been closing up?” Dana asked, looking at Raleigh again.

“Yeah. The house is on the market.”

“Too bad.”

He shrugged slightly, still not really comfortable with her around, with running into someone from his life before the Academy.

“You want to come over for coffee? I’m sure mom and dad would love to meet you. You, too, Mr. Hansen.”

Raleigh shifted a little on his feet. “I can’t, Dana,” he said quietly.

To Chuck the words were filled with more than a polite refusal. He could read between the lines, heard more than the ‘Sorry, not today, rain check’. This was a Raleigh who didn’t want to meet the parents of an old school friend, who didn’t want to reminiscence old times, and talk about his own family. All dead and gone.

Dana was silent for a moment, then her eyes filled with understanding and the smile was sad.

“Okay. Maybe next time.”

There wouldn’t be a next time. Raleigh wouldn’t be coming back, not even for the sale. It would all be handled by the broker.

“Yeah. Say hello to your parents. And whoever else is still around.”

“Not many moved,” she told him. “It’s our home.”

Chuck wanted to snap at her for that. Dana looked immediately guilty, realizing what she might have insinuated, but Raleigh just smiled.

“We gotta run. I have an appointment and we’ve got a flight back.”

“Where to?” she asked.

“Shatterdome in Hong Kong.”

“I heard they’re re-opening Anchorage.”

“They are.”

But Raleigh wouldn’t go there. It was a chapter of his past. He had died on the coasts of Anchorage and he wouldn’t go back to that place if he could help it.

The good-byes were brief, almost forced, and Chuck could almost hear Raleigh breathe a sigh of relief when Dana stepped back.

Chuck simply climbed into the car and let Raleigh drive them back down the road, heading for Anchorage in general and the Shatterdome in particular. They didn’t even have to skirt the edges of the city, just head on out toward the coast line, using the pot-holed road from hell.

They didn’t, though.

Chuck shot a frown at his partner. Raleigh bit his lower lip.

“Lunch?” he asked, sounding slightly rough. There was still a hopeful note to it.

It was way past two p.m. and really time for something to eat, though Chuck hadn’t thought they would make it to the city.

“I could eat,” he said carefully.

Raleigh gave him a small smile.

 

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

They ended up in what Chuck wouldn’t call a restaurant, more like a very rustic café with its own charm. The owner of the ‘food place’, for lack of a better word, had extended his bakery by adding various seating areas. There were old chairs, couches and armchairs, tables of various styles with worn tops, some of them recently repainted, some of them with chipped surfaces. One side of the main dining area was dominated by cabinets that were home to a coffee machine, a hot water kettle, a juice dispenser, and condiments.

The daily lunch specials were written on a board behind the register. Bread, rolls, danishes and donuts made up a whole display case and the rack behind it. Another display case was filled with fresh fruit, salads to go, sandwiches made to eat, and cold pizza slices that could be nuked if the buyer wanted it.

Raleigh chose the couch to sit on and Chuck took the armchair next to it. They already had their bottled water and were waiting for the soup and toasted sandwich combos.

Chuck glanced at his partner, noting the tense lines still there.

“Ray?” he asked, voice low and barely audible.

Raleigh heard it and gave him a tight smile, but he remained silent. There was no way for him to misinterpret what Chuck was trying to say with his name; his abbreviated name. Something that had been a way for Chuck to get a rise out of Raleigh when they had first met, all that time ago, in Hong Kong. Now it was something a lot more intimate and personal, something that spoke volumes when Chuck used it.

No, there was no mistaking that Raleigh knew what his partner was asking, but he wasn’t answering.

The lady from behind the counter brought them their combos, then turned to her next customer.

They ate in silence, Raleigh’s eyes on the world outside the window. As sunny as the day had started, by now there were clouds coming in. The weather could change quickly up here and if it rained now, after such a sunny start, there would be another kind of weather come evening. Raleigh had remarked on it when they had first arrived at the Shatterdome. Chuck simply had to take his word for it.

 

*

 

He wasn’t surprised when instead of taking the car back to their actual destination, they ended up walking through the streets. More clouds had come in and there was a hint of rain in the distance. Not that Chuck knew Alaskan weather, just that it had gotten colder and windier and the clouds were tell-tale.

People passed them by.

No one knew who they were.

No one had recognized them either at the lunch place or now.

It was… freeing.

Raleigh had been born here, had grown up here. This had been and still was his home. He looked around, curious, but not like a tourist.

He caught Raleigh’s slightly amused expression and gave him a glare.

“So, where did little Raleigh Becket go to school?”

It got him a chuckle. “Where every kid here did. You really want the full tour?”

Looking at the sky, pulling his jacket closed, he shrugged. Raleigh pushed his hands into his own jacket pockets, bumping his shoulder lightly.

“Next time,” Chuck muttered, shivering when a gust of cold wind hit him. “Damn.”

“Cold?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Raleigh grinned. “C’mon, I know a place. Well, I hope it’s still there.”

Chuck frowned and followed his partner through the streets until they ended up in front of a food truck. Well, coffee truck. Raleigh didn’t even ask him, simply ordered two steaming cups of hot chocolate.

“I’m not three years old,” Chuck grumbled.

“You just sound like you are sometimes.”

He glared at him, but Raleigh’s smile was warm and rather private, briefly lifting the shadows around his eyes.

“Sorry,” Raleigh murmured.

He frowned. “Sorry about what?”

“Happy birthday.”

Chuck pulled him out of the wind, into a corner. “You’re such a dipstick, Becket,” he muttered.

Chuck hadn’t celebrated his birthdays ever since his mother’s death. When he had turned eighteen, Striker Eureka’s crew had thrown a small party for him. He had been utterly smashed and the hangover had been hellish.

No, he hadn’t celebrated and had never felt the need to. So he had ignored the day, had actually forgotten about it.

Raleigh’s small smile, the softness around his eyes, had him lean closer. He pressed a little kiss against Chuck’s temple, then his nose.

Chuck snorted, catching the lips for real.

“Got no present, though,” Raleigh murmured as he leaned his head against Chuck’s, his lips brushing over the Australian’s ear.

“Like I said, you’re a total dipstick.”

Raleigh leaned over and kissed Chuck’s temple, warm lips brushing over cool skin. Chuck looked into the blue eyes, saw the pain, the memories, and the resolution, in there.

He leaned against the other man.

Raleigh just let his chin rest against Chuck’s temple.

They stayed there, watching the clouds coming in from the sea, drinking hot chocolate.

_Best birthday_ , Chuck thought to himself. _In twelve years._ The party thrown by Striker’s crew aside – drunk off his ass and puking his guts out beat almost everything when the birthday boy was eighteen – this was his best birthday.

 

 

When they finally left it was close to six p.m. The sky was completely overcast, but it hadn’t started to rain yet. The wind was even colder and had picked up a notch or two.

Raleigh was driving, eyes on the road as Chuck watched the landscape, the Shatterdome a dark mound coming closer in the distance.

They had gone through a drive through to get themselves something for the flight to Vancouver. The military hardly catered on their helicopter shuttle flights, Chuck had remarked as he had badgered Raleigh into grabbing an obscene amount of sub sandwiches, chips, soft drinks and a dozen cookies.

“What?” he had asked the blond defensively as he had put the bags away.

“You’re still growing, I know,” Raleigh remarked dryly.

Chuck had snarled something uncomplimentary, but the kiss had been apology enough. And he knew Raleigh could eat his weight in sandwiches, too. Buying so much had been sheer self-defense and survival instinct.

 

*

 

“Thanks,” Raleigh said as he locked the car and let his eyes wander over the barren rockscape.

Chuck looked at him, brows scrunching down into a frown.

“For coming along,” Raleigh elaborated, glancing at him.

“You asked. I had nothing better to do. And I was curious.”

“About the Shatterdome?”

“Your home.” He shrugged.

He had been. Very curious, actually. He had wanted to see Anchorage, though that had been cut short, and he had wanted to see the Becket home. There had been travel in Chuck’s life, but it had always been in connection to a Kaiju attack. There had never been a vacation, a real holiday, just training, being the best and the brightest the PPDC had to offer. He had been to other Shatterdomes, but he had never really seen the world outside.

So yes, he had been curious. Especially about Anchorage, the place his partner had grown up.

“Oh,” Raleigh now said, looking slightly a confused. Chuck didn’t find it adorable at all; no way. “You didn’t mention wanting to see the city…”

He waved it off. “It’s fine. If we ever get back here, I’ll do the mind-numbing touristy stuff then.” Chuck gave him a light grin, trying to ease the lines of guilt he could clearly see. “It’s really okay,” he enforced his words.

“Sorry,” Raleigh murmured and Chuck nearly growled.

He pulled the other man closer by his jacket.

“It’s fine,” he repeated, voice harder. “Next time.”

“Next time,” Raleigh echoed, though it was doubtful he would want to return. Maybe for the storage depot; maybe never.

Chuck knew the feeling. Somehow, the thought of going to Melbourne where his mom had died, didn’t really appeal to him. The city was a wasteland now. Nuclear strikes did that to a place. He wouldn’t want to look at the bones of a place he had grown up in, even if the government was rebuilding it, and see only what had been.

Raleigh gave him a kiss that was barely more than a faint brush of lips against lips, then smiled, his exhaustion quite visible. And they still had a few more hours to go.

“C’mon. Let’s go,” he said softly.

“The sooner the better?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah.”

He wished they could just crash here for the night, but the Anchorage Shatterdome wasn’t open and no quarters available. Spending the night in Anchorage itself hadn’t even come up as an option.

With another kiss, Raleigh stepped back and gave him a wan smile.

Time to go.

 

*

 

The helicopter took them to Vancouver where Marshall Gareth Mallory greeted them, despite the very late hour. It was almost midnight. They would stay over-night and then get a flight to Hong Kong via a transport plane.

That night they shared guest quarters; with one bed. It was a large bed, wider than the normal bunks, and Raleigh’s brows rose as he saw it.

“Really?” Chuck exclaimed. “You think M wouldn’t know? His pilot is our deputy Marshall.”

He dropped his overnight bag on the chair and turned. Raleigh looked a bit flabbergasted. It wasn’t that they were hiding what they were, but they also hadn’t made a lot of public overtures. Raleigh was a very private person and while Chuck loved the media, the cameras, the attention… well, he also loved this stupid Yank with his stupid blue eyes and the stupid hair and the stupidly adorable expression of confusion. He grabbed a fistful of the blue t-shirt and drew him into a kiss.

“M knows. Get over it.”

“Yeah, okay. Just… didn’t expect it.”

“The shared quarters or the single bed?”

It got Chuck a little laugh. “Both, I guess.”

“C’mon, Ray.” He pushed him gently. “Let’s put the bed to use.”

At Raleigh’s raised brow, Chuck shook his head with a fond smile he couldn’t suppress.

“Sleeping. You’re dead on your feet and I could use some shut-eye, too.”

He hoped and prayed that the insomnia wouldn’t strike again. After their Anchorage trip, it might be an almost sure bet. Old ghosts never laid to rest because there was no rest.

Because Yancy Becket’s shadow image was there inside his younger brother’s head.

Chuck knew. He had been there, had touched that shadow, had been witness to the greatest horror in Raleigh’s life. He had felt it like it had been him, not his partner, and he understood the blond so much better than any trained shrink ever would be able to.

They stripped, Chuck giving the naked man an appreciative look, then they slipped under the blanket. Raleigh curled in close and Chuck didn’t think about it as he pulled him even closer. Raleigh’s arm came around his waist, his face mashed into Chuck’s side, and he gave a soft sigh. The tension that had settled in his frame seemed to bleed away and Chuck smiled.

No more words were spoken.

 

*

 

Raleigh, as not otherwise expected, barely slept that night.

Chuck, despite trying to stay awake, dropped off after a while and woke to an empty, cold bed.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He showered, dressed, then went hunting for his missing co-pilot.

It was six in the morning.

“Ranger Hansen. Heard you were here.”

“Eve,” he greeted the young woman.

Eve Moneypenny, pilot of Quantum Solace and co-pilot of Felix Leiter, smiled at him. “Heard you and Ranger Becket arrived last night. How’s Anchorage?”

He shrugged. “Still getting cleared.”

She joined him as Chuck walked through the maze-like corridors of the Vancouver Shatterdome. He and Eve chatted a little, talking about Jaegers, the new additions made to those getting upgraded and restored, as well as the early warning system and research grid constructed along the closed Breach.

“Where’s Felix?” Chuck wanted to know. They had by now reached the mess hall.

“He has a medical appointment. Quarterly check-up.” Eve smirked and grabbed an empty tray. “I had mine yesterday. Passed with flying colors. He’ll be grumpy for the rest of the day if he doesn’t reach my results or even tops them. We have a Drop this afternoon, under simulated conditions, of course.”

Chuck knew those only too well. A whole bunch of scientists would evaluate the pilots, look at the strength of the neural handshake, would pour over the results and ask a lot of superfluous questions. Everything would get noted into their personnel files.

“When’s your flight?” Eve asked.

“Eleven.”

“Then I won’t see you before you leave. Have a good flight back home, Chuck. See you on the ocean floor.”

“Good luck.” He gave her a sloppy salute. “Going to find my wayward co-pilot first.”

She smiled, nodding.

 

 

Chuck went back to looking for his co-pilot.

 

*

 

He found him outside, sitting in the dawning light, watching the ocean.

Chuck watched him in turn, torn between leaving Raleigh to sort through his damaged mind and soul, or simply join him.

In the end Chuck stayed the watcher.

When had he started to be such a responsible adult outside the Conn-Pod, he wondered with a sarcastic tone to it. Raleigh had always been his rock in the stormy sea of emotions that had threatened to drown him in the first few months after Operation Pitfall. Raleigh had been the strong one, the silent, calm, balanced one. Chuck had relied on him, had unconsciously leaned on him, and Raleigh had managed to get him through some shit.

Payback, he mused as his eyes took in the tall, blond figure, the way Raleigh sightlessly stared at the ocean.

_Because I love the guy_ , Chuck added with a faint smile.

 

 

Raleigh finally got up from his chosen island of loneliness and walked toward where Chuck was waiting patiently. A small smile flitted over the pale features that reflected lost sleep and too many memories abound.

Chuck accepted the one-armed hug, the arm sliding over his waist and pulling him in close.

“Hey,” Raleigh murmured against one ear, his breath warm in the cool morning.

“Hey to you, too. I’m about to starve,” Chuck grumbled.

“Can’t have that,” Raleigh replied, kissing him.

“It’s bloody cold out here.”

“You didn’t have to wait here.”

_Oh hell yes, I had to_ , Chuck thought, eyes narrowing to bring the sentiment across.

Raleigh’s smile grew warmer, softer, and Chuck almost groaned at what it did to him.

_Fu-uck! Bloody yank with his bloody adorableness!_ How could he have fallen so hard for the man he hadn’t even considered a fully functional, reliable back-up just over a year ago? Raleigh had been a thorn in his side, an unknown factor in the final days of the war, someone Pentecost had chosen as a wild card. Someone who was supposed to be Striker Eureka’s back-up; Chuck’s back-up.

There had been so many emotions, all of them ranging along the lines of betrayal, anger, fury, disappointment and disbelief. Chuck Hansen wasn’t someone to bottle up emotions, to bite back on his reactions and just play Mr. Nice Guy. No, he had lashed out; his usual method of coping with matters.

And still… after everything, and nearly dying, he had landed this man in the end.

“C’mon,” Raleigh murmured and stepped back, that smile still there, the blue eyes more brilliant than a mere minute ago.

Yeah, he still looked tired, but Chuck planned on remedying that when they were back home. At least there was some life back in those eyes.

“Coffee,” Chuck ordered. “Now.”

Together they sought out the mess hall, Chuck making a beeline for the coffee while Raleigh grabbed two trays and walked over to the rather short line.

 

* * *

 

They were back in their own Shatterdome and Chuck felt immediately at home. It might be weird somehow, at least for an outsider, but Hong Kong had become a place he could honestly call home. His dad was here; he was actually the Marshall. The people he might call friends and at least trusted to a degree were here. Like Mako. And Raleigh was here.

He had told his partner the truth. He didn’t want to go back to Sydney. He didn’t need to be in Australia to be at home. He only had to be where his family was. His dad, Raleigh and, by extension, Mako and even Newt and Hermann.

He helped Raleigh with the boxes, which would be locked in storage, except for what he wanted to keep in their apartment.

It wasn’t much.

The photos, his jacket, a few souvenirs.

One of those souvenirs or mementos was a small, wooden figurine. It looked handmade, rough and not really like it had been finished. It was a bear.

Chuck wrapped an arm around Raleigh’s waist as he stepped up from behind, resting his chin against one shoulder. The blond leaned back, interlacing the fingers of one hand with Chucks, their joined hands resting against his stomach.

“Okay?” the Australian asked, voice low, serious.

“Yeah.”

He tightened his hold and Raleigh gave a soft laugh, no more than a little exhalation of air. He turned and accepted the hug.

They had come a long way in the past year, to where this casual contact, Chuck’s worry and care, were… normal. Where Chuck didn’t hesitate to express his feelings. Where Raleigh didn’t close off.

The kiss was almost chaste, soft.

Chuck grinned when he stepped back, then gently picked up the bear. “Yours?”

“Yancy’s. I made it for him.”

So very personal.

“Didn’t know you were so handy with a knife.”

It got him a little shrug. Chuck put the half-finished bear down and dragged Raleigh over to the bed.

“Chuck…”

He shook his head. “No talking.”

“I don’t…”

“No talking, Ray.” Chuck pushed him onto the bed, then gestured at the shoes. “Off.”

Raleigh rolled his eyes and did so. He also stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers.

So did Chuck.

The Australian slid into the bed and pulled Raleigh into his embrace. There was a moment of confusion, then Raleigh relaxed against him. Chuck smiled, pleased, running his fingers through the blond hair.

 

 

He lay awake, watching the semi-naked form next to him on the mattress. Raleigh had dropped off like a stone. The past four days had been straining for him. Not just the flight from Hong Kong to Anchorage, the day spent there to go through old belongings, then travel to his former family home, and the long trip back. No, it had been more. There had been ghosts of the past that Chuck knew about through the Drifts. He had lived Raleigh’s life with him, had memories of him that had him understand a lot more than the average friend.

He knew how bad this had been for Raleigh.

And there had been no way to ease the strain.

Be there. Just be there. Silent support.

Chuck had hated it and had still stayed, had still been there, had simply been what Raleigh needed.

“Thinking,” Raleigh complained sleepily.

Chuck almost laughed and he carded his fingers into the blond hair. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Sleep,” Raleigh muttered.

Good idea.

He kissed the smooth forehead and Raleigh curled in closer with a sigh.

Yeah, sleep sounded good.

Chuck finally closed his eyes and let his mind relax, listening to the sound of Raleigh next to him, his breathing, his gentle snores, and Chuck drifted off into a doze.

tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

They got back into their daily routine, the training, the runs to the ocean floor, the simulation Drops to improve their interaction with the improvements made to their Jaeger, and Kwoon sessions.

They were good together, inside a Drift and out.

Chuck was proud of their achievements, how he was in sync with Raleigh, though he never said so in these words.

His father knew, though.

As did Raleigh.

They were in each other’s head and Herc had been in his enough to know his son inside out.

 

*

 

Anchorage wasn’t mentioned again.

Nor the boxes stowed in storage.

The few items taken to their shared rooms had ended up in storage once more, like Raleigh had hidden them away.

Except for a family photo. Well, Yancy and Raleigh. Richard Becket no longer featured in Raleigh’s life and his mom… those photos had been put into a drawer.

Chuck smiled when the photo of the brothers was placed next to the one of him with his mom and dad, taken on the last family picnic before Angela Hansen had been killed.

 

* * *

 

Raleigh had fallen asleep, head pillowed on Chuck’s lap, the rest of him stretched out on the old, rather comfortable couch. The TV was running, some kind of game show with subtitles Chuck found hilarious to read. He supposed it was English, but it made little sense.

He still watched it. It was easy entertainment.

His fingers were tangled in Raleigh’s hair, playing with the blond strands, stroking and caressing and petting. It was how his partner had fallen asleep.

He looked up when he heard someone approach and found Herc giving him the raised eyebrows. A slight smile played over the Marshall’s lips. He got himself a beer and settled near-silently in the armchair.

“Worn him out?” he asked, voice low.

Chuck grimaced.

Herc grinned more, completely unrepentant. He looked at the screen and grimaced a little.

“Whatcha watchin’?”

“Actually, I’ve got no clue.”

Herc made a demanding motion with his fingers for the remote and Chuck gave it to him without a fight. He hadn’t been interested in the program and his main attention was on the sleeping man with him.

Settling on a documentary that seemed to be about demolitions, Herc glanced at them again.

“Not getting enough sleep?”

Chuck gazed at his peacefully resting co-pilot. “Getting it where he can.”

“Where you are,” Herc corrected him, nailing it immediately.

Yeah, his dad was sharp; no one should underestimate the older Hansen.

Chuck simply shrugged one shoulder, not even going there.

 

 

The documentary ended just about the time Herc was finished with his beer and he nodded at Chuck, smiling slightly, as he rose.

Chuck refused to be baited.

 

 

Raleigh woke during a movie. Something with dancing and lots of heartache and romance and some kind of weird, abstract romcom plot that Chuck had given up on following. He hadn’t really paid attention anyway.

The blond yawned and moved sleepily. Chuck smiled down at him, looking into those open, rather vulnerable baby blues.

Yeah, he had it bad and it wasn’t really getting better, even after months of having… this… having Raleigh… having what could almost be called a normal life.

“What time is it?” Raleigh mumbled.

“Late.”

It got him a little snort.

“Just past one.”

Raleigh scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat up, trying to smother another yawn.

“You should have woken me.”

“Nope.”

Chuck smiled brightly when Raleigh frowned a little.

The other man ran his fingers through the blond strands, which made them stick up even more, and Chuck held back a snort of amusement.

They went back to their place in amiable silence. Chuck didn’t really fight the kiss Raleigh gave him behind closed doors, nor the hands sliding under his shirt, stroking over his skin.

Raleigh’s question was brief and silent.

Chuck’s answer was a biting little kiss.

 

* * *

 

It took the Anchorage property three months to sell. Chuck was there when Raleigh received the call.

The amount of money was…

“For real?” he murmured when he saw the figures.

Raleigh shrugged and clicked away the agent’s sale confirmation.

“So, whatcha gonna do with all that money? And whatever else you amassed?” he teased.

“Not much right now.”

“Invest into later?”

“I thought about a place.”

Chuck leaned his hip against the desk, brows drawing down in a quizzical frown.

Raleigh shrugged. “We’re not always on base. There are days off. Vacations.”

“I thought you wanted to take me camping?” Chuck reminded him with a smirk.

The blond chuckled. “And you’re not getting out of that. I’m not talking about buying something right now. I wouldn’t know where.”

Not Anchorage, Chuck knew.

“Well,” he speculated, voice filled with mocking sarcasm, “you could buy a used Shatterdome. I hear there are one or two left in private hands.”

Raleigh snorted. He had placed a warm hand on Chuck’s thigh, gently running it up and down. It was… slightly distracting, but nice.

“I thought about a place for us. Together. One day.”

He felt momentarily breathless, then swallowed when those brilliant blue eyes looked up at him.

“Ray.”

“Even Australia,” Raleigh added, a tender smile on his lips.

“You wouldn’t last a month,” Chuck told him with a scoff.

Underneath the gruffness was a warm feeling, spreading through him. Raleigh was thinking about a shared home. Outside the Shatterdome. With him!

“Of course with you,” the blond murmured, squeezing his thigh.

He glared at him, aware that he might just have said that out loud.

“I… need to go back, though,” Raleigh said softly. “Clear out the last storage unit.”

Burn all bridges behind him, Chuck thought, nodding. Nothing left to link him to Anchorage but the grave of his mother and the place of birth on his birth certificate. No house, no family, no storage unit with the last of the Becket family’s worldly possessions.

“When?” he only asked, mentally going through the next few weeks, their scheduled Drops, their trainings.

“As soon as I can get a few days off.”

Chuck gave him a cocky grin. “Hey, I got good connections to the Marshall. He happens to be my dad.”

“Asshole.”

He leaned forward, kissing his partner. “He won’t say no.”

 

*

 

Actually, Herc didn’t. Actually, he told Raleigh to accompany him, Marshall Herc Hansen, to the Anchorage Shatterdome, where he just happened to be needed.

“Bloody lie,” Chuck muttered when they packed their bags.

Of course it was. A blatantly obvious lie, but who would call him on it? Anchorage had by now picked up basic operations with a very rudimentary crew. The appointed Marshall was someone Herc, and Chuck, knew personally. Trevin Gage, former pilot of Romeo Blue and twin brother to Bruce Gage, had taken command and was currently in the middle of getting Anchorage operational. The Shatterdome had been declared a research facility and a monitoring station, though it would house at least two Jaegers, possible three.

Romeo Blue would be one of them.

With new pilots.

Bruce was one of the instructors at L.A. and overseeing the restoration and repair of the Jaegers transferred out of Oblivion Bay.

So two days after his agent’s call, Raleigh Becket was on a plane to Anchorage again.

Herc had told them he would stay a week, which gave them ample enough time.

Chuck was only shaking his head. “Sneaky,” he commented as he strapped in.

Raleigh smiled a little. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

They arrived late, in the middle of a thundershower, and Chuck grimaced.

“Welcoming weather,” he muttered as they hurried across the landing platform and into the Shatterdome.

“Get used to it. Weather this time of the year is unpredictable.”

“You got monsoon season up here?”

“Nope. Just weather.” Raleigh shrugged and slipped out of his dripping wet jacket.

Chuck finger-combed his drenched hair. “Weather,” he repeated, trying to sound sullen and unhappy.

Raleigh shot him a smile. “The way the rain felt, it’ll snow soon. C’mon. Let’s get this over with.”

‘This’ being the meet and greet.

“Snow,” Chuck muttered to himself. “Great! And what did you mean ‘how it felt’? You feel snow? Really? For real? ‘Cause I know you’re part polar bear at heart, but even you don’t feel weather, Raleigh!”

“Cold rain, almost sleet,” Raleigh explained patiently with an expression that told Chuck he was being humored. “Not just water drops. Already partially frozen. It’s not my first winter up here, y’know.”

“Huh. Snowy rain? More to come. So much fun!” the Australian groused. “And I know you’re the homeboy here.” He hunched his shoulders, shooting the closed doors leading outside a wary look.

Raleigh grinned more. “C’mon. Let’s go. We’ll tackle the weather tomorrow.”

“As long as it makes you smile.”

And that was the truth. As long as it made Raleigh smile, he would suffer through whatever. The smile he got now was amused and knowing.

They headed deeper inside the Shatterdome, Chuck shadowing his partner.

 

 

They had been assigned quarters in the Shatterdome itself. Crew quarters, for pilot pairs, with two bunks and the bare military style décor they were used to.

It wasn’t the room Raleigh had last shared with Yancy.

Raleigh looked actually relieved and Chuck knew what was going through his partner’s head. He had been inside it often enough. He didn’t really want to spend the nights in his hometown, but he had also dreaded the Shatterdome, the memories buried there. At least they wouldn’t run into the ghosts that lingered in what had been the Becket room.

They unpacked and grabbed a bite to eat, then Chuck followed Raleigh around the Shatterdome until the other man gave him an annoyed look.

“What?” the Australian asked innocently.

“I’m not going to have a breakdown, Chuck!”

He shrugged. “Yeah, okay, you won’t.”

Raleigh’s expression darkened. “You don’t have to follow me around!”

“Got nothing else to do and you know your way around. Thought I’d tag along before I get lost.”

It got him an eye-roll. Shatterdomes everywhere had the same general layout. Raleigh didn’t try to push him away, though, which meant Chuck silently followed him as the other man explored his former home base. When they ended up in the Jaeger bay, looking at Brawler Yukon, Chuck leaned his elbows on the metal railing, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.

“She looks almost like new. Saw her on TV in a special about Jaeger tech one day.”

There had been brief bios on all Jaegers and their pilots, right up to the latest Mark-IIIs and their crews. Like the Beckets.

Raleigh mirrored his pose, a faraway expression in his eyes. “Yeah, I remember that. Tons of interviews and shots and questions about our lives.” He smiled slightly. “Yancy spun them in circles with his tall tales. They never knew what hit them. He charmed that one reporter for all he was worth.”

“Bet you weren’t any better,” Chuck teased.

“Well, we went for the same woman once. We were still in the Academy. I didn’t know she was hitting on both of us to get her story. I hated his guts when I saw them together in the Drift.”

Chuck watched the crane swing close to one of Brawler’s arms, then stop and secure the position for the mechanics to go on with their work.

“C’mon.” Chuck straightened and looked at his co-pilot. “Let’s get some shut-eye before tomorrow.”

Raleigh nodded and they walked past the workers, back toward their quarters.

 

 

The hot water loosened his tense muscles, relaxed him, had him sigh with pleasure. Raleigh let the hot stream slush over him until the whole bathroom was foggy and the ventilation labored to clear the air.

“You drowning in there?” Chuck’s voice hollered from outside. “’Cause I’m not going to rescue you.”

Raleigh stepped out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist while he used a second one to dry his hair.

“I thought you could swim,” he teased.

Chuck lay on the bunk bed, hands folded underneath his head, smirked. “I can swim, Rah-leigh.”

All pilots could. It had been a requirement. Raleigh had watched his partner cutting through the pool they had in the Shatterdome, all lean muscle and grace and strength.

Now Chuck’s eyes wandered up and down Raleigh’s close-to-naked form with an exaggerated leer.

“And maybe I’d pull you out of the water,” he added, grinning that shit-eating grin. “Wouldn’t want the hero of the hour end up as a floater.”

“You could have joined me,” Raleigh responded, running his fingers through the damp strands, trying to get them into some shape and order. “Prevent accidents from happening.”

The blue-gray eyes darkened and Chuck sat up, all predatory grace. “I wouldn’t know about preventing accidents,” he purred.

And then he was on his feet, prowling over to where Raleigh stood, and the next thing the blond knew was that the Australian had him with his back against the wall and was kissing him.

“Never too late for mouth-to-mouth, right?” Chuck whispered when he came up for air.

“Never.”

The towel was suddenly gone. And Chuck was still fully dressed. Raleigh bit back a groan when his skin brushed over the denim of the other man’s pants.

The grin on Chuck’s face widened, becoming devious.

Raleigh saw another shower in his… their near future.

 

tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

That night they lay close together on a bed that wasn’t really made for two. It was big enough, but not as big as the one they shared back home. Bunk beds in pilot quarters hadn’t been designed with sharing in mind. Married couples were an exception, as were life-partners. Everyone else had bunk beds, even if something might happen between them.

Or when.

The PPDC had a Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy of their own that had nothing to do with the long-since abandoned policy of the military. Jaeger pilots were special and whatever happened between partners, it stayed there. The reality of attraction was a fact. The neural handshake, the Headspace, the Drift, it was all new tech, largely unexplored when it came to the human psyche, and it changed one pilot’s perception of their partner. If that partner was a spouse, intimacy of any kind wasn’t a problem. Like the Kaidanovskys.

Siblings were a bit more tricky. Chuck had been given a good look into the Drifts of Raleigh and Yancy Becket. There had been a tightness, a closeness, that had nothing to do with physical attraction. Both brothers had simply grown closer throughout the Drifts.

Two strangers might find it awkward. There had actually been no such pairings until Mako and Raleigh, and they had mastered their difficulties, coming out stronger, feeling like family, like siblings.

No one really wanted to think what it would do to a parent-child combination.

And there had only ever been one.

Chuck knew there were rumors abound. He hadn’t given a flying fuck back then and he didn’t give one now either.

Pilots had the opportunity to talk to psychologists on base if they wanted. Or to neurologists. Chuck had never talked to anyone and neither had Raleigh.

Chuck followed Raleigh’s lead, kissing him, caressing him, making out without the intent to let it go any further. The hunger of before had been sated and he simply enjoyed having the other close. Very close.

His hands slid over the hairless chest, along so very familiar scars, keeping it above the waist line. He traced the well-defined abs, followed the scars, not trying to arouse. Just… to calm. As horrible as the origin of the scars was, they were… almost artful. Like fancy tattoos. Like something painted on his skin.

Like a memorial.

The thought wasn’t his own. It came from Raleigh, had stayed inside him as their minds Drifted apart after a Drop, and he found it a fitting description.

A memorial to what his partner had lost. A testimonial to who and what he was, his strength, his willpower, all that was Raleigh Becket.

Raleigh’s fingers played with the spattering of hair on Chuck’s own chest, looking a lot more relaxed. He smiled sleepily when Chuck’s fingers ran along the waistband of his pajama pants, when his flat palm rested on Raleigh’s stomach.

The kiss was explorative, questioning, with emotions between them that were rarely ever talked about.

They would get through this; they would close the final chapter of Raleigh’s past together.

Raleigh’s knowing look told the Australian that he had been made. He kissed the smile, then held his partner in his arms as Raleigh fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Chuck whistled when he and Raleigh stopped in front of the storage unit.

“That’s more than just some assorted furniture,” he commented.

Raleigh shrugged and went over to the huge sliding door and unlocked it with the correct key code. It slid open with a rattle as he pushed a red button.

“Whoa,” Chuck muttered.

Yeah, it was more than just furniture and some assorted knick-knacks. There was a bloody huge motorhome in it! It was the size of a bus! Next to it was a car. In the back he thought he saw two covered dirt bikes.

“Geez, Ray,” he murmured.

Raleigh drew a deep breath.

“You gonna keep it all?”

“No. I called around and tomorrow I have a few people coming by to take a look at things.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just want to take a look at some stuff. I promised Hermann to bring back whatever books are still there.”

Chuck laughed softly. Raleigh and Gottlieb shared a preference in reading paper books. Hermann’s lab space was cluttered with reference material of the non-electronic variety, and he knew there was a whole wall of shelves-only in the place where he and Newton lived.

“What about the motorhome?”

Raleigh shook his head. “I’m selling it.”

Chuck walked over to the big rig. “Other people live in a house that size,” he murmured.

“Well, yeah.” Raleigh joined him as he walked closer to the monstrous thing. “With two kids, my dad had decided to invest in something roomier. It was a used model at the time he bought it. It was a steal deal because the former owner had to sell. Health problems, medical bills. He paid it off almost until…”

He stopped and shook his head.

Chuck knew the rest of the story. Until Raleigh and Yancy’s mother had died.

He leaned a little closer to the other man. Raleigh briefly leaned in, kissing his temple as if to thank him for the support. Then an arm wrapped around Chuck’s waist, pulling him into a real hug.

“You don’t want to keep it?” Chuck asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

“No. It’s… too big, has too many memories, and I wouldn’t know where to keep it. I might not even use it much.”

“I thought you had wanted to drag me into the wilderness to go camping,” the Australian teased.

“Hm, yeah. We can rent.”

“Okay.”

Raleigh closed his eyes, resting his head against Chuck’s.

Chuck let him.

 

* * *

 

Chuck would have been surprised if they had managed to spend a week in Raleigh’s hometown and not run into people who had known the Beckets or had gone to school with one of the Becket boys.

Raleigh met the first in a coffee shop, after they had lugged a whole van full of framed pictures and assorted figurines to a shop who had made a good offer on the whole collection. People kept glancing at them, talking to each other, nodding in their general direction. Some were even openly pointing.

It was embarrassing. For them. Not for Chuck and Raleigh, though Raleigh looked slightly uncomfortable. He also made no move to talk to any of those who kept trying to remember where they knew him from.

The woman who recognized Raleigh as who he really was, was someone he had gone to school with, who smiled brightly at the Jaeger pilot, called him their hero, and proceeded to pay for the coffee and muffins Raleigh had just ordered. The lady behind the counter looked at him wide-eyed, then shyly asked if he was the Jaeger pilot who had saved them.

Raleigh had smiled almost helplessly, mumbling something, and then he had fled. As much as Chuck had once enjoyed the media attention, recognizing him – them, really – as heroes, he really didn’t want it right now.

So he watched the newcomer with eagle eyes, a mild frown on his features, and he barely gave her the time of day. Marion Dolin, she introduced herself. Hyper, almost fan-girlish, and apparently she had had a major crush on Raleigh when she had been in high school. That she kept mentioning she was currently single had Chuck just about control himself not to roll his eyes.

Could she be more obvious?

Raleigh was the perfect gentleman and Chuck wondered if his partner overlooked her blatant come-ons or was simply that ignorant of how the woman flirted with him. He knew that the poster boy routine was just a mask, a façade, that the man underneath wasn’t like he was portrayed. Raleigh Becket wasn’t the perfect gentleman and good guy. He wasn’t innocent or golden or any of the other attributes the tabloids liked to add. He wasn’t the invincible hero, the man who had admirers wherever he went, a man or woman in every port, so to say.

Chuck knew the real Raleigh Becket and that someone was a lot more complicated underneath all the shiny knight exterior. But he was the adorable sap some of the more gossipy tabloids wrote him to be. Chuck, as his Drift partner and life partner, was quite aware of the darker and the sappier sides. Like how he liked to touch, to caress, to hug. How he slept soundly when Chuck was with him, while nightmares kept him from getting any sleep at all on other nights.

He had been there for some of the worst. Right after their first Drift together. He had been there to calm him down without even knowing how to handle the situation. Apparently he had done something right because Raleigh had fallen asleep, exhausted, all cried out, in his arms.

Looking vulnerable.

It had been in the beginning of their relationship and it had opened Chuck’s eyes to many things concerning Raleigh Becket.

Now he watched Raleigh walk Marion to her car, which was parked across the street, and he smiled.

He didn’t feel threatened. There was no reason to be. Them… it was something that had been cemented through the Drifts. It was powerful, connecting them, and no high school infatuation would shake that foundation.

 

 

“Here’s my phone number.” Marion handed Raleigh her card. “We could have dinner while you’re here.”

“Thanks, Marion, but I don’t think there will be time.”

“I’m also game for coffee.” She smiled brightly.

“Maybe. Listen, I’m not sure…”

“Or we just talk,” she interrupted. “Or I could help you with the storage?”

He shook his head, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“You might get stationed in Anchorage…?”

“No. I won’t. Too many bad memories. Listen, Marion, I think I left the wrong impression.”

Raleigh looked over to the coffee shop where Chuck was leaning against a street lamp, arms crossed over his chest, watching them with a faint smirk. He could read the mirth in those lively eyes and Raleigh knew that his partner was quite aware of what was going on over here.

Raleigh himself hadn’t been that dense not to understand that Marion Dolin had been trying to get him on a date. Lunch, dinner, coffee, whatever. He had liked her in high school, but that had been a lifetime ago. It had been in another lifetime altogether.

“That man over there,” he nodded at Chuck, “is my partner.”

Marion followed his eyes. “Yes. You work together in Hong Kong. You mentioned it.”

“He is my co-pilot and Drift partner, yes. He is also my partner outside of that.”

Raleigh could clearly see the moment she understood. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, a flush on her features.

“Oh my… Oh, Raleigh, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t… God, you must think me an idiot!” Marion laughed, shaking her head. “I didn’t make the connection. I mean, you two… It’s not like you’re obvious!”

No, they weren’t; never had been. The way they looked to an outsider was like… colleagues, good friends, co-pilots. Not something a lot more intimate and closer. They both preferred it that way. Chuck Hansen wasn’t the guy to hold hands, who looked at Raleigh with loving eyes, who pulled him into an embrace or kissed him. Raleigh didn’t mind; he didn’t need it. He didn’t need proclamations of any kind.

He knew. They knew. Both of them.

It was enough.

“It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to think that I’m looking for anything.” He shrugged, giving her an apologetic smile.

“No, no!” She grinned. “No, it’s okay. I made a fool out of myself, didn’t I?”

“No. I’m flattered, actually.”

“Don’t be modest, Raleigh. You’re still quite a catch and your partner probably knows it.” She held out her hand and he took it. “It was nice running into you. I wish you and your partner the best.”

“Thanks, Marion.”

He watched her get into her truck and pull into traffic, then walked over to where Chuck was still leaning, watching everything with a shit-eating grin.

“She finally got it?”

“I told her.”

“Bet you did. Are you really that dense or did you develop a massive evil streak I didn’t know about?”

“I’ve been out of that game for a while, Chuck.”

“Huh. Yeah. Right.”

“Says the one who didn’t think of us as something a) possible, b) likely and c) with a future.”

Chuck looked at the ground, shrugging. “I’ve never been in that game,” he said.

“Huh. Yeah. Right.”

There was a flare of anger, that familiar temper, and Raleigh grinned brightly at him.

“Asshole,” Chuck muttered.

“Look who’s talking. C’mon, let’s go. We still have to drive by another two shops.”

Chuck got into the van, but before Raleigh could start the engine, the younger man pulled him into a quick kiss.

“How many more old flames?”

Raleigh laughed. “I wasn’t like that in school.”

“Right.”

“Really!”

“Marion didn’t think so.”

Raleigh kissed him this time. “It was a long time ago. I was a kid. I’m not that kid anymore.”

“Hm, quite aware of that.”

“And there is no one else.”

Chuck nipped at his lips, eyes intense and deep; serious. “I’m not jealous. Or insecure.”

“I know.”

“Or I’d demand a ring.”

Raleigh’s expression froze for a moment and Chuck cursed himself. Fuck!

“Gotcha!” he laughed, trying to diffuse the situation.

Raleigh was still chewing on the comment, the fight or flight response only too visible to someone like Chuck. If Raleigh reacted to this, it would be either with words or actions. Or he would ignore it, hope that Chuck would forget about it.

Not a chance, Chuck thought, knowing exactly how Raleigh could pull away and just hide behind shields barely anyone knew he had. Mako was Chuck’s best ally in this since she knew Raleigh through their Drifts. Not as deeply as Chuck did, but she knew him. And she repeatedly kicked his ass when he went into hiding over something or other.

Finally Raleigh just shook his head. “Let’s go home.”

Chuck wanted to hit his own head against the car door. Repeatedly.

He and his smart mouth! Shit!

 

tbc...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update for this year. Happy New Year everyone!

Raleigh was stunned. He felt like he hadn’t heard right.

“What the hell, Chuck?”

“I know we’re all fucked up, each one of us! I know my psych profile inside out and I know you know what they say about you! We all have issues and PTSD and whatnot! It was a joke!” his temperamental partner exploded.

Raleigh’s whole body tensed and his features froze. His mind seemed unable to compute, trying to reboot out of the stall, trying to understand what the hell was happening.

_Of course I know what’s happening_ , he thought faintly.

And the fear and the pain came back, doubled by revisiting his old home, meeting old friends.

By his past.

Shit!

“I’m not asking you for anything, okay?” Chuck snarled. “Not a ring, no proclamation, nothing! I’m not that insecure or jealous! I know who I am. I know who you are, Rah-leigh! I don’t care about the hundreds of Jaeger groupies gushing about you in a million chat rooms and forums! I don’t care about you and Marion. You were completely blind to her advances!”

_What the hell, Hansen?_ flashed through his head. _What the hell is going on?_

“I knew she wanted something from me that I didn’t want from her!” he snapped back, ignoring most of the rant because it was easier to argue about Marion.

Chuck glared more.

“Chuck…” Raleigh sighed explosively. “This… us… I take it very seriously, okay? You know so. We’re Drift partners.”

He muttered something uncomplimentary, glaring even harder, and Raleigh tilted his head.

It was like looking at his partner through the Pons, reading his mind, looking into his soul. Chuck Hansen was a master at projecting the tough guy, the hero Jaeger pilot for the media to love and report about. But in the privacy of their home, when it was just them, there was someone else.

It was the man he was in love with.

“The Drift,” Raleigh finally said, voice rough, a thought hitting him. “You saw it in the Drift.”

The tension radiating from Chuck was almost palpable.

“Of course you did.”

Raleigh sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. Of course. That one thought, that one promise he had made to himself: never to get hitched. It had been something he had sworn to himself when his mother had died, when his father had left them to fend for themselves. He had no idea where the bastard was.

Back then he had told Yancy he would never marry, never have children, never be that kind of guy. Yancy had laughed at him, told him he would meet the right choice one day and then it wouldn’t matter.

Naomi Sokolev had been a fling.

Especially since Yancy had slept with her, too. Especially since she hadn’t been more than an infatuated Jaeger groupie, out to get some pilot ass.

Then his world had turned upside down; he had been left alone and adrift, part of himself gone, part of his brother forever with him. And he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t let anyone close.

Chuck had been… Chuck had been the first to rouse his interest in so many ways, had torn him out of his self-imposed exile without even knowing it, or probably planning it. He and Mako together, each in his and her own way.

Chuck’s brows dipped down, his eyes narrowing even more. Raleigh knew there was something seriously wrong with him that instead of alarm it was a faint tingle of arousal racing through him. Chuck Hansen was a very attractive guy, especially when he got angry.

“My past…” Raleigh stopped, shaking his head. “My past died when I decided to live again. When Pentecost gave me a purpose. When Mako gave me back my trust. When you… tried to beat the hell out of me, you damn kangaroo.”

Chuck’s temper flared, the fury brief but running hot. “Tried?! Tried, Becket?!”

“I beat you.”

“Only because my dad got there first!”

Raleigh grinned and closed the distance between them. “I think we had enough rematches already to call it a tie, hm?”

Chuck snorted, hands fisting into his shirt pulling him closer. “You call it a tie, I call it a win on my part.”

“I love you.”

Chuck blinked, eyes widening, mouth open and stuck on his argument. “Fuck!” he hissed. “What the hell?!”

“I love you,” Raleigh repeated. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said it before. “And I want us. Permanently. Just us. With or without a ring.”

“Is that a proposal?!” There went the temper again.

Raleigh kissed him. “It’s a promise,” he murmured against the other man’s lips as he pulled back slightly.

“I’m not leaving,” Chuck snarled, the words sounding angry, aggressive, but the expression was anything but.

“I hope not.”

It got him a harsh little laugh. “Why? Gonna tie me down? What keeps you from leaving?”

“You,” Raleigh answered easily.

Chuck blinked, slightly caught off guard.

“I was seventeen when my mom died. I had just turned eighteen when my father left us, three months after her death. I was a kid. I didn’t understand his reasoning, that he would leave me and Yancy, that he wouldn’t even explain. He was just up and gone one day. I hated to think I was capable of something like that. I didn’t want to find out, so relationships… were casual.”

Chuck looked into the brilliant blue eyes, his expression softening slightly.

“Yancy’s death… cemented that decision never to burden anyone else with my death… or to have someone taken from me who I care about.” He held the intense eyes. “Until you.”

Raleigh could see the thoughts chasing each other in the younger man’s head. This was the longest talk about their relationship they had ever had outside the Drift.

“You and Mako,” Raleigh teased.

“I’m not into threesomes,” was the grumbled reply.

He laughed, feeling a little lighter.

Chuck pulled him close, a hand curling around his neck, the kiss exploring and gentle and just a little demanding.

“You’re not that person, Ray,” he murmured.

The nickname had him shiver a little.

“And the sooner we get all this done with, the faster we’re out of here, the better,” the Australian added, voice a little harder now. “You’re not going to destroy yourself over this.”

It almost sounded like an order.

“I won’t,” Raleigh promised. “I’m not alone in this.”

“Damn right you’re not!”

The next kiss was harder, more demanding, more intense, and Raleigh didn’t fight the hand pulling at his shirt. He slipped it over his head, gave Chuck full access to the skin underneath, and he let himself fall into the sensation of his partner’s touch.

 

* * *

 

Herc was at the Shatterdome when Romeo Blue Six arrived by air-lift from L.A. She looked good, almost pristine, but that was only the surface. Underneath there was a lot more work to be done.

With the Jaeger came not only Bruce Gage but also the new co-pilots, Keesha Brennan and Ren Rei Momoko.

“Damn, I feel old,” Herc muttered as he watched the two women, both no older than his own son, carry their belongings inside.

Bruce chuckled. “Right, huh?”

It was good to see him again, Herc mused. After their close call, both brothers had had to watch from the sidelines.

Bruce openly showed the scars he had suffered from their last battle. His jaw had been shattered, there had been skull fractures, multiple surgical procedures, and they had left very visible scars all over his left side. One scar ran through his left eye, which had thankfully been saved, and another along the healed jaw. He had lost some mobility in one arm, though that rarely gave him any trouble, and he walked with a slight limp. Not to mention that most of his teeth were no longer his own but implants.

Trevin, in comparison, bore his scars on the inside. Loss of a kidney and his spleen, artificial knee and hip joint, and nails and plates keeping his bones together. He had spent months in rehab, getting his mobility back with an iron will.

But they had survived.

“The best and the brightest,” Bruce now said, smiling proudly.

“I expect no less,” Trevin laughed, smiling, too. He also looked a lot more at ease with his twin now present in Anchorage.

Yeah, Herc knew the feeling.

Crossing lines.

Being so close that nothing could come between them. So close that another relationship was close to impossible. So close that the Ghosts didn’t bother him anymore, that he understood his son instinctually, that their behavior outside the Drift was nothing anyone could understand.

He watched the Gages interact, saw the relief in both their stances. The closeness was there, for those to see who were in the same position.

Lightcap could research all she wanted, but she would never be able to understand what these long Drifts had done to the brain and psyche of Jaeger pilots. Yes, she had first hand experience since her then-co-pilot had become her husband of many years now, but that was different.

Bruce and Trevin were brothers, like Raleigh and Yancy had been. Chuck and himself parent and child.

There was nothing to compare this to.

Ever.

 

* * *

 

“Jesus!” Chuck muttered as he stood inside the storage unit, watching fat snowflakes drift down from the sky.

It was just past four, the sky was dark and foreboding, and the snow was falling in an ever faster rhythm. The forecast this morning had announced snow fall, but this was…

“Out of this world,” he said under his breath. “Bloody hell!”

“It’s November, what did you expect?”

He glared at his partner, a dark frown that barely made it out from under the woolen hat and the scarf he had wrapped around himself this morning. The scarf had been Raleigh’s, he knew. It had been in a pile of things clearly labeled as such. As had been the hat and the gloves. Chuck had muttered to himself that the other had probably knit them. But at least they kept him warm. Temperatures hadn’t just dropped, they had plummeted!

“I’m Australian,” he snarled.

Raleigh laughed, playing with Chuck’s scarf, fixing the knot. “And you never saw snow before?” he teased.

“Fuck you, Becket,” Chuck replied and stalked back into the unit where they had at least made some headway into sorting the stuff Raleigh and he had found here.

There were piles of ‘Keep for sure’, ‘Maybe’, ‘No idea what to do with’, ‘Find a buyer’, ‘could be trash but maybe someone will pay for it anyway’ and ‘Second hand store with a blind owner might take it’. Chuck had added a ‘What the hell is that?’ pile.

Now and then potential interested parties came by and things left the unit. Raleigh gave some of the stuff away for free if someone bought something else. It was a good system, but for some obscure reason the piles didn’t get any less.

 

*

 

Two hours and three more buyers later, one of the piles did look smaller, though with the contents of what Chuck had gotten out of the motorhome – which had all its storage compartments absolutely stacked with cans of food, bottled water, camping, fishing and hunting gear, and enough bedding to stock a hotel – the snow hadn’t gotten any less.

It had gotten more.

“We’re not going to drive back in these conditions,” Raleigh told him.

Chuck shot him an annoyed look. Not because of the remark and the fact that it meant they would stay in Anchorage. No, it was because Raleigh Becket was a bloody polar bear! The man didn’t seem to think this was the kind of weather to wear warm clothes! No, he was out here in a, granted, woolen, sweater, but no jacket, no gloves, just an old scarf haphazardly wrapped around his neck. No hat either.

The man must have been born inside a glacier!

_I’m never going to get warm again_ , he thought darkly. _And he thinks it’s still summer or what?! Bloody hell!_

Chuck felt arms wrap around him from behind and Raleigh rested his chin on his left shoulder. He was a warm, solid presence at his back and Chuck almost sighed. He stopped himself just in time from something so embarrassing and turned his head to glare at his partner.

Raleigh smiled brightly.

It was that dopey, happy smile that had Chuck torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to hit him. He decided on a kiss; sloppy, off target, but still a kiss.

 

tbc...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the slow updates. Real Life and the end of the year madness at work kept me from writing a lot. Then I actually went and took a four day vacation. Darnit! :) 
> 
> But here it is, the last past. Hope you enjoyed the ride!

They locked up and got into the car, which was just as cold, and Chuck snarled uncomplimentary things about Alaskan weather under his breath. They had an overnight bag with them, just in case, as Raleigh had said. Back then Chuck had been amused about it. Now he knew why.

“Wasn’t Herc stationed here for a few months?”

“A year,” Chuck growled. “One year of freezing my arse off!”

“And such a nice one it still is.” Raleigh grinned. “Summer’s not too bad.”

“One word: mosquitos!”

“And Australia’s better?”

Chuck glared.

“Half the flora and most of the fauna is highly toxic or poisonous.”

He death-glared. “Watchit, has-been.”

Raleigh smirked and calmly, carefully and with a lot of skill navigated the roads into the downtown area.

By the time they found a hotel, the snow was ankle deep on the roads and only the main streets were cleared, though it was a lost cause, Chuck thought, following Raleigh into the hotel lobby. The snow was quickly covering everything.

They called Herc from their room, let him know where they were. His dad would be the first to mount a search party if they didn’t get back to the Shatterdome and hadn’t left a message with anyone.

Looking at the world outside through the hotel room window, feeling a lot warmer and more relaxed than on the whole drive here, Chuck smiled a little. Arms wrapped around him from behind and Raleigh rested his chin on the Australian’s shoulder.

“Forgiven?” he asked lightly.

“What for? Insulting my home country?”

“Making it snow,” Raleigh joked, pressing his lips against his neck.

Chuck snorted and turned his head, meeting the lips lightly. “You wish. It’s not enough for you to be the hero of the hour? All those Jaeger groupies trying to get a piece of that fine ass not enough?”

“I can do without.” Raleigh kissed his neck again. “I got you.”

He turned and gave his partner a narrow-eyed look. “I’m not your groupie, Becket!”

“I heard different. You were a Gipsy Danger fan,” Raleigh teased, grinning.

“Push off, has been,” he growled.

Raleigh buried his fingers in Chuck’s shirt and pulled him into a kiss. “Not gonna happen. You got me.”

“You’re still within the return window, so watch it,” he muttered, giving the tempting lips a gentle bite.

“Not gonna happen,” Raleigh repeated.

“You are so full of yourself!”

“Look who’s talking.”

The blue eyes were dancing with humor and that was all Chuck wanted. The lightness, for Raleigh to forget why they were here, what they were doing.

“Hungry?” the blond asked.

“Do I have to go outside?” he groaned, sounding almost petulant.

Raleigh chuckled. “They have a restaurant in the hotel. Or a sports bar and grill two blocks down.”

Chuck groaned again. But he felt like hanging out in a bar tonight. A beer or two, Alaskan if it had to be, and a mountain of unhealthy bar food sounded just about what he needed right now.

 

*

 

An hour later, eating the best damn buffalo wings he had ever tried, drinking beer that he grudgingly agreed tasted rather good, Chuck felt the snow trek through the winter wonderland had been worth it. The bar was filled to capacity due to a game.

People in team shirts intermingled with those who weren’t wearing fan paraphernalia. Some weren’t paying attention to the multiple screens, though they sometimes glanced at the game to check the scores. Or when loud cheers rose.

Yes, Chuck enjoyed himself, feeling warmer than in the past four hours. It might have to do with the sweater Raleigh had given him. Hand-knit and clearly a Becket sweater. Wide, slightly lumpy, washed-out and well-worn, but it was warm.

Even if ice hockey wasn’t his kind of sport.

“Hockey? Really?”

“Rugby’s not in season.”

“In Australia it is.”

“Might shock you, but this isn’t Down Under.”

“Shut up, Rah-leigh.”

“From the man who can watch table tennis for hours.”

“Fuck you. There was nothing else on but game shows and teleshopping!”

“Just enjoy the cultural highlights, Hansen.”

“When you show me one, I will.”

Nevertheless, it had been an enjoyable evening, he had to confess. There had been lots of cheering, loud groans about perceived fouls, and even louder complaints and opinions about incompetency regarding the trainer, the players or the referee.

It had turned into a late night with too much beer and way too much food.

And too much men on skates. Or men with brooms. Chuck had stared at Raleigh like the man had lost his marbles when the TV had been switched to curling. Curling!

Cultural highlights his ass!

He had given Raleigh a piece of his mind as they had gone back to the hotel, thankfully without new snowfall, just a ton of snow on the ground. It was still icy cold and Chuck was still freezing his Australian ass off.

“Curling,” he muttered as he slipped into bed. “Geez!”

Raleigh’s grin told him his complaints were tolerated, like they usually were, and the blond wasn’t taking him all too seriously.

“You can’t let that one go, hm?”

“No.”

Raleigh was warm and so was the bed. Warmth was good. Warmth was all Chuck wanted.

“Curling is not a sport. You play it with brooms!”

“It’s actually a Canadian sport.”

Chuck snorted. “So what? You watched it. There was a crowd of people cheering for men with brooms on ice. Suck it up, Raleigh. It’s a weird sport.”

Raleigh crowded against him, head on his shoulder, one arm over Chuck’s waist.

“Grows on you.”

His eyes were already closed and Chuck felt the warmth again, felt a smile, soft and knowing, on his lips, and he buried his nose in the blond strands.

Yeah, maybe. Like certain blonds.

Raleigh was out like a light in minutes.

Chuck was awake a little longer, listening to the even breaths.

No nightmares tonight, he hoped.

 

 

And there weren’t.

 

* * *

 

Freshly showered and dressed, Chuck stared out into the winter wonderland that was Anchorage, a sigh escaping his lips. The snow had stopped, but there was no ignoring the thick, white blanket of coldness all over the city.

Great.

He bundled up in his jacket, scarf, hat and gloves, but he still felt like he was freezing his ass off as they left the hotel to get breakfast at a nearby restaurant. He was wearing Raleigh’s knit sweater again.

Raleigh had at least put on a hat, probably his only concession to the weather outside.

“It’s cold,” Chuck growled, hunching his shoulders as he pushed his hands into his pockets.

“Not that cold yet,” was the easy answer.

“Bloody polar bear.”

Raleigh laughed, clearly amused.

Chuck hid his own smile behind the scarf.

Breakfast warmed him and with the warmth in his belly Chuck could confess that the world outside looked kind of pretty; peaceful. And Raleigh looked more at ease and happier. This was where he had grown up, where he knew every street and every corner. This was his home.

The restaurant was packed and they escaped the breakfast rush to get back to work. A few people shot them curious looks again, probably wondering where they recognized Raleigh from.

 

 

By the end of the week, Raleigh had finalized all sales. The dirt bikes, the car, the motorhome, two old boats, a ton of power tools, sporting gear and used, but very well maintained furniture were moved from storage.

Chuck had helped log several boxes filled with books and magazines to the PPDC issue van Raleigh had been given by Marshall Gage to take whatever he wanted to keep back to the Anchorage Shatterdome.

No more old flames had appeared. No old friends had popped up. Chuck had seen a few curious faces, people trying to look inconspicuous as they hoped to catch a look of the returning hero. A bunch of kids had approached them outside the local salvage yard, shyly asking for autographs.

Raleigh had smiled brightly, almost happily, doing as asked, and so had Chuck. The kids had had several action figures and magazines with them.

“Don’t auction them off,” Chuck had told them, grinning when one of them had blushed. “Wait a while. Value’s only going to go up.”

Raleigh’s laugh had been easy and light.

A little boy and girl, clearly brother and sister, had been wearing sweaters with Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka’s decals printed in them. Chuck had been only too happy to sign Striker’s shirt. The girl had declared she would never wash the sweater ever again.

“I’m just glad you didn’t tell them to wait with the sales till we’re dead,” Raleigh told his partner when the boys and girls were gone.

“Why? Think they’d hatch a plan to help that fact along?”

Raleigh elbowed him and Chuck bumped his shoulder, then they were on their way back to the storage unit again.

 

*

 

The day before the last day Herc had dropped by and was helping clean out the junk that was left. The owner of the storage facility had agreed to cancel the rental contract by the end of this month. All Raleigh had to do was clear out the stuff, clean it, and sign a release form.

Herc, dressed in winter gear, wearing a PPDC issue woolen hat, gave his son a quizzical look as he threw out a bunch of spare parts no one had wanted to take off Raleigh hands.

Chuck didn’t need many words to communicate to his father just how bad this was for the blond. One more day and the life of the Becket family was… over, so to speak. Aside from an uncle by the name of Charlie Becket, and who no one knew where he was, there were no more relatives. Charlie was rumored to have disappeared into some remote area a year after his nephews had become Jaeger pilots.

Chuck had talked to the many people who had come by to look at the ‘garage sale’ or who had made appointments to get the larger gear out of the unit.

“I remember Charlie. Nice guy. Not like his brother. Leaving your family like that. Shame,” a woman had said as she had loaded her van with assorted vases, lamps and the complete kitchen utensils she had acquired. “He up and left. Said he needed some time. I think he wanted to travel.”

And that was that. There had been a few mentions of where he might be, some obscure, remote places in Alaska or even the Yukon. No one knew. People could simply disappear. Nothing much about it.

“Poor boy,” another woman, old enough o be Chuck’s grandmother, had said with a sigh, patting Chuck’s hand as he helped her with her load. “He was such a nice boy. A bit shy.”

Chuck had smiled at that. Raleigh Becket. Shy. Right! He had yet to get over the image of the gangly blond his partner had been at fifteen. Raleigh had filled out nicely.

“Yancy was the big brother. He was the boy girls fell in love with. Raleigh was the little brother. You know how it is.”

No, he didn’t. He was an only-child.

“When their mother died, it was a tragedy. Then their dad left. Poor kids. Everyone was so proud when they made it into the Academy, when they became heroes. Yancy’s death… He was so young!”

They had all been too young to die, Chuck thought. Every single one of them. Be it at twenty-six or at forty-nine. There was no right age.

“But he has you now,” the old woman had proclaimed with a warm smile. “I can see he is happy. Even if he leaves his hometown. I do understand. When my Mark died I would have left if not for my family here. Raleigh has no one left here.”

Chuck had watched her go, strangely touched.

 

 

“He’s gonna be okay,” Herc said, leaning against the van and watching one of the men hired by the buyer drive off with the sold car and the dirt bikes on a transporter.

“Yeah.”

His father gave him a look and Chuck smiled from behind his scarf. Herc had pulled the hat lower, over his ears, and added a thick scarf. Like Chuck, he wasn’t happy about such temperatures.

Raleigh was a tough cookie and resilient. Chuck knew this was simply closure for him now. The worst was behind them. Raleigh would walk away from this, a chapter closed, and while Chuck suspected there would be a bit of an aftershock, he also knew that things wouldn’t blow up again.

Herc nodded as if his son had just explained it to him in words. “Let’s grab the last few things, lock up and get back to the Shatterdome.”

“Good idea.”

 

 

It took them another three hours, two of them spent throwing away what Raleigh wasn’t taking along or the buyers had wanted. When the storage unit was empty, Raleigh did a last walk-through with the owner, then closed the doors. They shook hands, Raleigh signed the release form, and suddenly everything was over.

Chuck watched the tension drain out of him as he walked away from the storage unit. Herc was already behind the wheel of the van, waiting patiently. Raleigh gave his Australian co-pilot a watery smile and Chuck didn’t give a flying whatever as he pulled him into a kiss.

Herc just gave him a knowing smile when they got in and Chuck glared a little.

They drove back mostly in silence. The radio was playing the local station and Raleigh seemed almost relieved the more distance they put between themselves and Anchorage. Light snowfall accompanied them on their trip, but the roads had been cleared of the heavy snow and no ice had formed. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the landscape covered in pristine whiteness, but Chuck didn’t really have eyes for it.

He reached over and interlaced his fingers with Raleigh’s, ignoring a possible audience. Raleigh squeezed his hand and gave him a brief smile.

 

*

 

Their helicopter was already waiting. The boxes were quickly stowed together with their bags.

Trevin and Bruce Gage shook hands with the three visitors from Hong Kong, then all climbed aboard and the helicopter took off.

Chuck watched the white landscape fall away for the last time.

Raleigh’s eyes held a faraway expression.

 

*

 

They arrived in Vancouver in the middle of a rain shower that threatened to drown them on the short run from the landing pad to the entrance. Snow in Anchorage, rain in Vancouver.

_Fun_ , Chuck thought.

“Welcome back,” Mallory greeted them, then turned to Herc. “Marshall Hansen.”

“M.”

Mallory smiled. “How’s Trevin?”

“Learning by doing, so to speak. Like we all did. Bruce arrived a few days ago. I think they’ll manage to get Anchorage running.”

The other Marshall nodded. “I hear you are doing okay.”

Herc chuckled. “Kinda. Same here, I suppose.”

“Since I don’t have to keep an eye on one of my most notorious pilots who never listens to orders and mostly ignored everything else, or leash my resident quartermaster before he blows up a Jaeger, I’m rather relaxed at the moment.”

He laughed. Yes, his deputy Marshall had a well-known history, especially when it came to authority, but James Bond had slid seamlessly into his new position. Maybe it was Q, maybe it was because he had closed his own past and dealt with it, and maybe it was just everything that had happened to him in the past two years. The good and the bad. And Q.

Herc strongly suspected that Q had a lot to do with how balanced and evened out Bond was now. The former quartermaster of the Vancouver Shatterdome had a very pronounced and visible influence on the older pilot. Their connection was incredibly intense and the way they continued to experience such intimate Ghost Drifts was almost as surreal as Newt’s close-to telepathic connection to Hermann.

 

 

They stayed the night and met up over breakfast. Raleigh looked a lot better, no longer so tense and pale, Herc noted with a pleased smile as he ate his scrambled eggs.

He met Chuck’s eyes, raising his brows minutely. _How is he?_

Chuck listed one corner of his mouth. _Better._

Herc tilted his head just a fraction. _You’re taking care of him._

His son nodded once, the movement almost invisible. _You know I will._

Herc smiled. _Good._

The glower needed no translation and Herc smirked, biting into his buttered toast.

The silent exchange of question and reassurance passing almost everyone by.

Raleigh sat close to his co-pilot, maybe closer than he had to, but the physical proximity was something Herc had noticed developing right away between the two men. Not unlike what his own deputy had been found doing when he and Q were somewhere together.

Not anymore, he reminded himself. That relationship had stabilized and grown, but in the beginning, when James had come in from Vancouver, when Skyfall Prime had been one of the few Jaegers left and sent to help Pentecost with his plan. Those two were a tight item and so were Raleigh and Chuck, though after such emotionally disturbing days, Raleigh unconsciously sought closeness.

Whatever Chuck actively or unconsciously did, it helped. And Herc was convinced that his son was quite aware of how to help his partner.

“Flight’s leaving at ten,” he told the two younger men.

“We’ll be there,” Raleigh answered seriously.

Chuck just chewed on his toast.

“See you then.” Herc rose and carried his empty tray over to the small conveyor belt that would run it into the kitchen.

 

 

This time would be the last time.

Raleigh strapped into the seat of the military issue flight. They had seats on a cargo plane, which meant no regular passengers, just them, Herc and a fully loaded cargo hold behind them. The pilots were getting ready for take-off, the captain chatting with Herc as his co-pilot cleared them with the Shatterdome’s flight control.

 

 

Chuck dozed off after the take-off. He was out like a light by the time the plane left the coast line behind them.

 

 

Herc glanced at his son, the ginger head resting against Raleigh’s shoulder, and smiled. He looked utterly relaxed. Herc met the blue eyes over his kid’s head.

Becket gave him a slow nod. Almost like a thank you.

Herc nodded back, then slid deeper into his seat and closed his eyes, too. It was time to catch some shut-eye.


End file.
